The Woman In Mask (BBC Sherlock Fanfiction)

Opera Night

"Are you out of your mind?!"John yelled at Sherlock, who was desperatly scanning the files that Mycroft had given him.
"She is a criminal, Sherlock."
"Thanks for pointing the obvious once again. Your observation skills are literally improving John."Sherlock said without looking at him. Somehow, these words and the whole situation made him angry. He felt his blood boiled in anger.
"Fine."he said trying to be very very calm. "I'm not in, this time. You are on your own. Let me know when you gain your sanity again."he yelled and harshly took his jacket and left the flat.
Sherlock was astounded. He wasn't expecting this to happen. But he was so stubborn to go after John right now. He knew John would come eventually. So he focused on the files in front of him.
Well, at least he tried.
There were two women. Marie-Ann and Wilhelmina. Both of them seemed so irrelevant together. She had to be one of them. Wilhelmina was deceased and Marie Ann seemed so ordinary.
If only he had something to go on. Like a diary...
Then, there was the diary. Somebody stole it. But he was sure "that somebody" wasn't the woman in mask. She could be right about being the victim. Somebody obviously set a trap for her and she was succesfully caught.
The confusing thing was, how a first class criminal like her, could possibly caught in this trap? Was there someone else? But why? Why there should be someone else? She was known to work alone. Unless this someone had something on her. In conclusion, she was decieved by someone who was stronger than her.
So, what he had to do is, to find this very "someone". If he could find him/her he could find out the woman in mask's identity and he could arrest her too. He smirked at his thoughts. He was clever, as usual. He then stood up and grabbed his jacket.
Meanwhile, John had just realized the black car slowing down just a few meters away from him.
Anthea opened the door.
John rolled his eyes and sighed.
***
Sherlock had just finished questioning Molly about Rebecca when he entered the Royal Opera House.
According to Molly, she was obsessed with opera. Even if you were disguised, you would always carry something from yourself. Sherlock knew this and he decided to take a look at the opera premiers for tonight. There was just one and it wasn't a classic. It was new.
"How can I help you sir?"the woman at the reception asked Sherlock.
"I want a ticket for "Lenore"he said.
"I'm afraid that's impossible sir. The tickets were sold out two months ago."she stated.
"Can't you find just one?"
"Well, like I said the tickets were sold out but let me check it."she said and turned to computer.
Sherlock started to tap his fingers on the desk.
"Sorry sir, there is no."she stated again.
"Thank you ."he said and left the reception.
He was definately going to see it and nothing could stop him.
He started to observe the entrance hall. There were lots of people talking to each other. Sherlock saw a middle aged woman. She seemed somehow so depressive. She was alone, appearently waiting for someone who was never going to arrive. He smirked.Things couldn't have gone better.
He walked towards her
"Hello."he said, coming to her side.
"Hello."
"Have you ever heard about the composer?"
"No."she said recklessly. He ignored.
"I guess she is new. If only I could find a ticket but you know all of them are sold out."he continued. "Have you ever listened..."she wasn't even listening to him. Her eyes was watching outside.
"Tell you what, I don't care ok? I don't care about neither the opera nor the composer. Take this bloody ticket and go to hell! You, the men, are all the same shit. You always care about yourselves. You are all selfish bastards."she yelled at him and gave him her ticket.
Things definately couldn't have gone that much better.
***
"Hope this will be quick because I have a date."John sighed as he sat down to one of the armchairs in Mycroft's office at the Diogenes Club.
"It's nice to see you too, John."Mycroft said as he was pouring a drink for himself.
"So, spill the beans Mycroft, surely I'm not here for a nice friendly talk, am I?"
"Thanks to Sherlock, your observation skills has improved since our last meeting John."Mycroft said sarcastically. John rolled his eyes.
"One day, I'll be a murderer because of you bloody Holmes boys!"
Mycroft smiled.
"Just come to the point Mycroft. I really am not in a mood."John said, drinking his whisky.
"How is he doing?"he asked quickly changing the subject.
"If I say fine, that'd be a lie."John answered.
"We both know he is not, then. As usual. Is he still working on the cases of Cygne and Millstone?"
"Yes,well, sort of. He changed his area."John said.
"She is dangerous John."Mycroft said getting serious. "We can not follow her. We can not find even a little trace of her. She is hollow."
"Not to your brother apparently."
"I know. That's why I want you to keep an eye on him. We are face to face with a criminal who does not exist John. And she can do whatever she want."
"You know things would be easier if your brother wouldn't be so stubborn."John said.
"What do you mean by that?"Mycroft asked curiously.
John opened his mouth but hesitated. He decided not to çtell Mycroft about their mysterious guest.
"John?"Mycroft asked again.
"Nothing, he is just so stubborn as usual. Is it done I have to go now."he said standing up. Suddenly the office's door opened and Anthea came in.
"Mr. Holmes you really need to see this."she gave him a file. John came closer to him.
"It's about Wilhelmina Eveleigh and her death. We've found a new trace."she continued.
"What did you find?"John asked and both Anthea and Mycroft looked at him suddenly.
"The day she had been found dead, a corpse had been stolen from the morgue. According to the information of the stolen body, it was exactly the same with Wilhelmina's body.Same age, weight, height etc.. But again, as if she died that day, there are no records of her."she said as Mycroft was turning the pages of the file.
"Same method."John said. Both of them once again looked at him rather irritated.
"What? Don't throw that look again to me."he yelled.
"Dr. Watson is right. It's the same method with her other cases."
"So, she is Wilhelmina Eveleigh. Can we be hundred percent sure to confirm her identity?"asked Mycroft still sceptical.
"I'd say yes, sir. This is the first and the strongest trace we've ever found."she said and Mycroft nodded.
"Confirm it than. Start a red bulten to find her."he ordered.
She nodded and left the room.
"Why would you care?"John asked.
"She is not just a thief. She stole something indispensable."Mycroft answered.
"What did she steal?"
"It's time to go Dr. Watson. Do remember my words. Keep an eye on him. He might be in danger."Mycroft ignored John and turned to the file. John left the room, furious. Now he had to cancel his date with Sarah-second time in this week because of someone-and find Sherlock bloody Holmes!
***
With an overture, followed by a beautiful prelude, act one had started.
A princess, in all black,was standing at the edge of a cliff. She was confessing. She was questioning herself wether she was the raven who came for death or she was the victim of the raven. Her aria was beautiful yet painful. The melodie was full of grief and desperation.
Perfectly choosen notes were floating solemnly in their minor key.
She was a colerature soprano. And her aria was perfectly fit with her strong voice. The aria was full of high notes and she was hitting them perfectly.
The stage was designed with the tones of dark purple, grey, black, dark blue and turqoise blue. The atmosphere was dreary, full of grief, dark and solemn yet mysterious and mesmerisingly beautiful.
Sherlock stood in the balcony. His place was perfect. He could see both the hall and the stage perfectly. The hall was full. Appearently this mysterious composer's impressive new opera had managed to interest everyone.
His eyes were searching for her. He didn't know why he was so willing to see her. She was just...impressive, nothing more.
But Sherlock knew this wasn't true. In her mysterious and solemn being, her elegance, her mind, she herself and that kiss...Sherlock quickly removed these thoughts from his mind. Thinking of these was repulsive. His mind was coming against to him. To his principles. She was just ...another...woman. She was merely and merely a client. That's all.
The moment he was thinking of these, the soprano in the first scene-Lenore the princess-,her lover-a good tenor-,her maid and her mother the queen was hitting the highest notes of their quartet and the orchestra finished playing. The first break started.
A huge applause exploded in the hall.
Sherlock stayed on his place and stared at the closed curtains. He could hear everyone talking about how exceptional the opera was. He could agree them too.
"Would you like a drink?"
He turned back to reality as he heard a familiar voice. He turned to look at the owner of the voice but she had gone, leeaving a glass of high quality champagne.
He knew exactly who she was.
The opera started again. The second half was more depressing.
There was a scene where Lenore killed her cousin, who was threatening her to reveal Lenore and her sweetheart's secret affair. This affair could destroy everything. Lenore could loose her throne.
This time Lenore and her maid Laura, caught by the queen and Lenore's sweetheart. The queen ordered Laura to get imprisoned to the tower and locked her daughter in her room. After the queen left, Lenore's sweetheart strated to sing Edgar Allan Poe's famous poem The Raven.
He was standing in front of Lenore's locked door and soon Lenore, too, started to sing along with her sweetheart. The scene was heartbreaking.
"She composed it."Sherlock thought, as he was unconsciously reciting the verses of the poem, mesmerised by the music.
He looked up and saw her standing at the upper balcony. She didn't saw him. Her lips were moving. Sherlock stared at her more than a minute. Music. He thought. He smirked.  He had found her weakness.
The opera finished with Lenore's suicide.
Applause was huge. It was very strong as if it was going to destroy the hall.
Sherlock was applausing, with a huge smirk on his face. He knew her weakness now and he got his first victory over her.
"Thank you, thank you."the conductor came to the scene and stopped the applause. She wasn't that old. She was around her forties.
"I wish our amazing composer could be here tonight. But she can't, for some reasons. You'll know her, everyone will know her when the time come. But for now, she wants to remain in shadows. But this succes, will bring her more inspiration and it definately will stimulate her to write more.
"Our mysterious composer, my dear, it was such an honor to perform your beautiful music. Your family would...I'm sorry, everyone is so proud now. Congratgulations my dear and welcome to our world!"
The audiences started to applause again.
Sherlock looked up to see her. She was smiling victoriously.
Then she dissappeared.

'Wilhelmina Eveleigh-deceased
Family-deceased.'
'Your family would...I'm sorry everone is so proud'

"Got you."Sherlock thought. "Would and is. How could I be so blind?"he drank the last drop in the glass.
"Wilhelmina Eveleigh."he said and left the hall. Now it was his turn to win...